The ThreeHanded Beast
by gardenofwords
Summary: Dustfinger is tormented by an internal battle. Meggie, Resa, or home? Finally, he makes a resolute decision and confronts the person who could change his life simply be agreeing to be a part of it.
1. Chapter 1

The Three-Handed Beast

Dustfinger pounded his fist against the wall, snarling in frustration. Resa had always accused him of having multiple personalities, and indeed, the different parts of him were now battling to the death against each other.

On the one hand, Meggie, beautiful Meggie—he remembered that night in her room, when he'd watched her sleep, those years ago. She was so beautiful, so peaceful, and so uncannily like her mother, in appearance. So, then, he'd felt something for her because he loved her mother. The overwhelming feeling of warmth that he'd often felt for her during their adventures had been for her mother, obviously.

But, then, on the other hand, it wasn't so obvious. He remembered the night Meggie had found out that he had betrayed her and her father to Capricorn and his cronies. She'd practically cursed him to the depths of hell, and if she hadn't used those exact words, well, he knew she'd felt like it. She'd expressed the hope that he would die, even that fire, his beloved friend, would be the cause of it. Her words, screamed at him as if she were mad, still stung him when he thought back today. But how had she been able to hurt him so badly? There were very few people in this world or his own who were capable of hurting him. Time and experience had taught him that if he wanted to survive, if he wanted to be all right, he had to be immune to the pain words were capable of inflicting. Especially when fired at him from such a pretty mouth.

_Aghhh! _Not again. He shook his head in frustration. There they were again, those little thoughts that popped up, unwelcome, into his head. But there you go. Yes, she did have a pretty mouth. And, yes, her words had hurt him. So some part of him couldn't help thinking that perhaps the feelings he had for her were just that. For her.

Indeed, she'd grown so lovely over these years that it almost hurt his eyes to look at her. He'd only seen her a precious few times, but since he'd finally been able to go back to his own world, Darius, the other reader, had kept his word, and read him back to this world once every year. He'd justified this insane longing to come back and visit—he never _visited_ anywhere—by the fact that so many important, life-changing things had happened here, simply ending up here not the least among them, and so of course he would want to come back from time to time. But he knew that secretly he'd wanted to come back to see Resa, to catch a glimpse of her beautiful face, once, just once, every year. But as the years had passed, he couldn't help noticing that the sting he felt when he saw Resa with Silvertongue had steadily subsided, though it was never gone completely, and his attention had slowly turned towards Meggie. At seventeen, Meggie now almost outshone her mother in beauty, and Dustfinger couldn't help smiling when he thought of her fiery personality. So, now, he had to admit to himself, he wasn't sure which one he loved—the woman who had meant so much to him for so long, or the girl who was nearly a woman who had befriended him and cursed him so often it was hard to remember if they had parted on good terms or bad those years ago. For although he had seen Resa and Meggie each year, they hadn't seen him since he'd gone back to his own world five years before. He made sure they never saw him when he came back.

His thoughts now drifted to Meggie again. He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. The same images that so often accompanied his dreams flashed through his mind. Meggie's scared face, as a child, five years ago, as she'd bravely walked down the path that lead to the deserted village and the abandoned church where Capricorn held court. Meggie screaming at him, lashing out, when she realized that he'd betrayed her. Meggie's awed face when he'd given her a show of fire tricks in her aunt's backyard. Her smile, when he'd amused her. The last image he'd seen of her, as he'd disappeared back through the book that served as a portal to his world—her sad, tearful expression as he'd abandoned her, in essence betrayed her again. He still felt guilty for that. Especially now that he, or at least a part of him, wanted so badly to be with her. And the rest of the images drifted across his mind. All the times he'd seen her when he'd come back. Each year, as he'd seen her from some hiding place—Meggie walking and laughing with a friend, Meggie shopping with her mother, Meggie walking alone, lost in thought, once with Inkheart clutched tightly to her chest. And each year, older and more beautiful than ever.

The thought stung him. Because what chance did he have with her? At twenty-six, he was, after all, really too old for her. If he was being honest with himself, Resa, at thirty-five (she'd been a very young mother, having married Silvertongue at seventeen and had Meggie at eighteen), was really a little old for him. But neither he nor Resa looked their age, anyway. Resa and Meggie could easily pass for sisters, and Dustfinger himself, well…going back home after their ordeal with Capricorn had changed him dramatically. He looked twenty-one, easily, his blonde hair had that beautiful shine again, the curl was back, his face was no longer scruffy and his terrible scars had all but disappeared completely. Not that it mattered what he looked like. Meggie would still hate him, anyway, for leaving. If he decided he wanted to stay here with her now, he doubted that there was any way she would let him. After all, she knew him as well as anyone, and better than most, except perhaps her mother. He even felt that, somehow, she knew him better than her father did. She knew his draw to his own world, how tempting it would be for him to leave her again. But now, he knew it for sure, he could, he would, leave his world behind if she would let him stay here with her. He would forget Resa completely, except, of course, as a dear friend, and he would leave his world in the book that contained it…Right?

Dustfinger let out another snarl of frustration at his own stupidity and inability to commit to anything. Distractedly, he took out a match, struck it on the concrete, lit a ball of fire in midair, and played with it absentmindedly, letting it float between his hands, bounce across his fingers, careful never to let his fingers linger against the ball of fire for more than a second.

There was, of course, the third hand. Yes, his mind was such a twisted, screwed up phenomenon that there were at least three hands, instead of the typical one hand and the other hand, to any of his problems. The third hand on this one being the residual doubt that he could not, in fact, leave his world behind. Could he? Images of his beautiful home flashed through his head, replacing Meggie's haunting face. Lush green landscapes, friendly fairies, creatures of all kinds that only appear in the dreams of the most imaginative, and then only very rarely, and are never seen in the dreams of most.

Yes, he loved it. Even now, he missed it, and he had only been back in this world for three hours! He couldn't help it. It was part of him, both his home and the ever-present longing to return to it when he was not there. He never felt at peace here as he did there.

And so the three-handed beast raged on, although now having almost been whittled down to two-handed, if he could convince himself once and for all to let Resa go. She was clearly happily married, and if he could let go of her, perhaps he could enjoy a little more of the peace of mind that was so hard for him to come by these days. And this was how all of his problems were solved. Process of elimination. Saw off one hand and then deal with the other two. Eventually he would come to a decision.

So, once and for all, he made the resolute decision to let go of Resa, to allow her to live out her life with her husband, and he would no longer interfere or think of interfering. So now the two hands that remained were Meggie and home. Did he go home, as his very nature screamed out at him to do, or did he betray that instinct, betray that part of himself in the almost overpowering desire to stay and try and win Meggie? For there was no denying it. He truly was in love with her.

He sat in his hiding place, leaning against the concrete wall of some dilapidated building and hidden behind a bunch of bushes, for a moment longer, then, resolutely, pushed himself up off the ground, came out from behind the bushes, and walked across the small town square before him to the fountain in the center. Meggie sat on the edge of the fountain, seemingly unaware of the people buzzing around her, her head bent, reading a book that Dustfinger knew only too well. Really, she seemed to be gazing at the page, taking it in, rather than actually reading it.

As he drew nearer, she seemed to feel his presence and looked up, staring into eyes she had not looked into for five years. They stared at each other for a moment, and he waited with baited breath for what seemed like hours, until, finally, comprehension dawned across her striking features.

"Dustfinger?"

**Sorry, no action or dialogue, but I think it sets the scene well for later. Please review! All comments appreciated.**


	2. Ch 2: A Forest of Fire and Forgiveness

Chapter 2

Meggie's eyes were wide as she closed the book, set it down on the fountain ledge, and stood up, staring Dustfinger in the eye, as a million thoughts raced through her head.

_What in two worlds is he doing here? Am I really looking at the same man? Why would he come back now? Unless there's danger—_

This last thought struck her. "Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are you—are you okay?"

Dustfinger looked a little taken aback by this question. If she could see his thoughts, she would have known that his heart was breaking to hear her first concern be for his safety when he still felt so guilty for abandoning her.

Looking at his expression, Meggie instantly felt a little silly, but Capricorn stuck out too clearly in her mind. She had known such an evil to come from Dustfinger's beloved world that she couldn't help feeling fear at the sight of him.

The sight of him. Hmm. He certainly was a sight to see. How this could be the same man? Renewed, handsome, his face almost devoid of scars. He looked younger now than he had five years ago.

"I—no, no, everything's fine. I just, well…I just wanted to see you."

The shock could not have been more evident on her face. How many times had they cursed each other, angered each other, how many times had he pushed her aside as unimportant? The thought of him coming back for the sole purpose of seeing her was something she couldn't comprehend.

And yet, she found that she was glad, indeed, she was absolutely overjoyed to hear these words from him, and had to fight a sudden urge to fling her arms around him.

Whoa. Where had that come from? This was a man who could never be fully trusted. He'd been her friend at times, enemy at others, but always distant, and she'd told herself that was how she always ought to be with him…distant.

But that was years ago, he was certainly changed on the outside…perhaps the inside, too?

"Oh," she responded, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "Well…I'm glad."

He greeted these words with a brighter smile than she'd ever seen from him, one that reached all the way up to his eyes, instead of the guarded smile she was used to, though, really, her smiles to him had always been similar, although each had had one element that differed. His smiles had been secretive, whereas hers had been mistrusting, but always, always guarded. Now Dustfinger did away with both of these elements. There was no wariness, no secretiveness, he simply smiled with all he had, and she hoped the smile she returned was devoid of wariness and mistrust.

Meggie looked away, suddenly shy, and gestured to the book on the edge of the fountain. "Never could put it away for good."

"Well, why should you?" he asked, looking at the book and then back at Meggie. "I can't either, but, admittedly, it's transportation for me, not just a sentimental reminder."

Meggie smiled. "I look at it and think, that's where she was. That's where my mother was all those years, and it still amazes me." She picked it up, running her fingers lovingly along the spine, and then returned her attention to Dustfinger.

"So, how's…um, how's everything? You know, in here." She lifted the book in the air.

"Magical," Dustfinger replied. "I should take you sometime."

"The last time someone in my family went into this book, she lost her voice when she came out of it and we didn't see her for years. I don't think I'm ready to take risks like that just yet."

"Understandable."

"It must be strange for you," she said, changing the subject abruptly, "being back here for the first time in…how many years has it been?"

"Five," he said guiltily. He wasn't quite ready to tell her he'd been spying on her every year.

They stood there in silence for a few awkward moments, neither knowing what else to say, and in those moments Dustfinger couldn't help noticing how tall she'd grown. How tall, and, of course, how beautiful. Looking at her, he felt he could gather her in his arms and she could easily rest her head on his shoulder. Suddenly, he grinned.

"Come here. I want to show you something."

And without further ado, he grabbed Meggie by the wrist and took off running. Startled, but laughing, she followed him, allowing him to lead her by the wrist.

"Where are we going?" she laughed, calling over the wind that rushed past her face as they ran, ruffling her long, light brown hair and white sundress.

"Meggie, when have I ever been a straightforward person?" he called back, laughing as well. "You'll just have to see, won't you?"

They ran down the cobblestone road leading from the town square which eventually turned into a dirt road, then, finally, Dustfinger made a sharp turn to the left, off the road and into the thick trees that lined it.

Happy, reckless laughter bubbled up inside Meggie, and when she let it out, Dustfinger grinned swiftly and pulled her into the trees. Still pulling her by the wrist, Dustfinger dragged Meggie farther into the woods, then, when they couldn't see the road anymore, he stopped.

Meggie looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Should I bother asking?"

In response, Dustfinger reached into his pocket and pulled out a match. Striking it on a nearby tree, Dustfinger lit a ball of fire in midair, just as he'd done earlier to amuse himself. As he started working it through his fingers, Meggie gasped, then smiled in delight. Encouraged, Dustfinger stretched the ball of fire into a serpent that wound itself around his arm. Grinning at Meggie, he took the head and tail of the snake and combined them so the snake disappeared into a ring of fire, which he placed in midair above Meggie's head.

"A halo for an angel," he smiled. The smile she gave him in return was absolutely radiant. Then Dustfinger screwed up his features as he scrutinized the halo jokingly.

"No, wait," he said. "This is you we're talking about."

Striking another match, he formed the fire into two more small balls of fire, and then made them into pointy little horns, which he placed under the halo, supporting it.

"There," he said, satisfied. "That's better."

"Hey!" Meggie exclaimed indignantly, slapping him lightly on the arm. Her touch sent a chill down his spine. It was a good chill.

Dustfinger took the halo and the horns, made them into a single spiral of fire, which he twisted around and around, then captured it in his hand so fast Meggie barely saw him do it. The fire glowed between his fingers for a second, then it was gone.

Dustfinger looked up at Meggie, who clapped appreciatively. "That was awesome," she said.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and the joking atmosphere faded.

"You know, I still remember your face when I first put on a show for you, that night in your aunt's backyard. You looked at me like you'd never seen anyone more amazing."

"I hadn't," Meggie said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. She sat down carefully on the ground, folding the skirt of her dress under her and leaning against a tree.

"You were trying to gain my trust, that night. My approval." She knew she was opening an old wound, but she couldn't help it. "So I would trust you enough later to follow you into Capricorn's hands."

The look of agony on Dustfinger's face made her regret her words, but she said nothing in apology.

Dustfinger crouched down on the ground beside her. She looked up at him, her head resting against the tree trunk.

"Meggie," he said, his voice breaking. "Meggie, I've done a lot of things I regret, and I've never forgiven myself for betraying you to Capricorn. Please believe me when I say that I am so, so, truly sorry. I'm sorry for everything I put you through, I'm sorry you ever had to know the name Capricorn, or Basta…or Dustfinger."

She sat up, away from the tree. She was silent for a moment, staring at him; then she said, "I forgive you. Once and for all, I forgive you. And I don't regret meeting you. I don't regret knowing you, whatever you may have put me through. It's forgiven and, from now on, it's forgotten."

His smile was all she needed in response.


End file.
